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On your way home from school, you hear a scream, a cry for help.
Courageously, you rush toward the source of the sound, only to find two men
advancing towards a girl, about the age of 15, pushing her into an alley. The
alley is dark and reeks of death, the place well-kept away from the police.
Brick walls surrounded the place, fire escapes cover the walls. Once more, she
screams and calls for help. You look to your left, right, and behind. It looks
like you’re going to have to be the hero today. You look to your possible
opponents, a short pudgy man in dark clothing, wearing a ski cap, the terrorist
one; and his partner in crime, a lean, average height man, mid 30's, in a black,
long, trench coat, his pants halfway down. You turn to the girl; she has reached
the back wall now, and shrieks and bawls for help once more. No one comes.
You’ll have to be the hero today.
Searching your surroundings, you see a long, metal pipe about the length of
your arm, and twice as thin. You drop your pack, pick the rod up, and begin to
run towards the young woman, all the while testing the rod’s weight, yelling
“Stop!” The two men turn around and proceed towards you, the short one
pulling out a crowbar and the taller one pulling out a knife. In that instant,
you consider your combat engagement. The short one has reach, because of his
crowbar, so take that one out first. The alley is narrow, so they can just about
fight you, two on one, but with the shorter guy’s stance, he doesn’t leave
much room.
You prepare to fight the short one, taking up a stance, remembering dominant
side forward, like fencing... almost. Block, catch, strike. The short one takes
a backhand swing, you instinctively block with a backhand upward swing, grab the
weapon and swing around your rod around your head, gathering momentum, and
swinging at the short one’s neck. Block, catch, strike.
CLAAANG!!! You turn to the direction of the noise. The tall one drops to the
floor with eyes wide open. Behind him, you see the girl, holding, then dropping,
a metal trash can lid. She lets out a sigh and drops to her knees on the floor,
exhausted.
You drop with her, in concern, and ask, “ Are you all right?” She
responds with a nod.
“Thank...huff...you, for your......assistance. You...huff...shall be
amply compensated...” she says to you. She chants some strange language, one
you’ve never heard before.
Suddenly, you feel a strange sensation first on your skin, then somewhere
deeper, where your heart would be. You look to your hands, which are replaced by
tiny, bright white spheres, and everything you see becomes white.
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Opening your eyes, from what seems to be a slumber of days, you let out a
scream of anguish. Momentarily, your skin feels as though 10,000 needles are
piercing it, your eyes sting from the air around you, your tongue tastes of
black coffee and dirt, your nose tingles quite a bit, causing your eyes to water
non-stop. Footsteps approach you and a young male voice pushes a bowl into your
hands, and says, “Drink this.” Slowly, a bowl reaches your lips and
you swallow a tasteless liquid. The liquid cures you of all of your previous
aliments; no longer do you cry out in torment.
Sweat drips from your forehead and into a pond before you. The drop of sweat
sends a ripple throughout the surface of the liquid, extending and creating a
wave that crashes into the ridge on the other side. Your feet feel the
vibrations as the male voice says to you, “I must now depart. Food is provided
to you on your right, according to your diet of your race. Water or H2O is
provided to your left. Your story begins to unfold; I wish you luck. Fare thee
well.”
Two large wooden doors close with the exit of the voice. The room looks like
trees have taken over the place, like a gardener forgot to trim the leaves, for
years. The brick that was once the barrier against the elements is cracked and
grown over by branches and moss. It looks like someone has intended for this to
happen. You look around the room; the place seems to be a fairly wooded
area. Baskets made of woven straw are displayed, full of what looks like
fruit, a large pond is placed for fresh water. Above you there seems to be
a roof made of dense foliage providing shelter. Around you, you feel a strange
heat, warming your body, as if the aura of the living was providing warmth for
you. The ground beneath your feet is of dry dirt and twigs. You search for a
resting place and you find a flat rock to sit upon.
You look into the pool and a voice suddenly booms, “This is your story.”
You will see all, know all, feel all.
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